Farewell
by VHunter07
Summary: ...the new foal was up and about the pasture below, sprinting back and forth before his mothers' watchful gaze. The woman sighed gently, the sight calling up many sweet memories she would have rather remained forgotten...
1. Authors' Note

I'm back!!!! Did everyone miss me??? Where the heck is everyone just by the way? It must be the fact that it's summer time, everyone's off playing rather than here on the computer where they should be! lol Ok, down to business:

This is my first try at a oneshot, so be nice! Yes, I know I always have some excuse or another. But seriously...I got this idea from a book I wrote & also hope to publish here sometime in the future. I'm actually considering turning this into a little series of related oneshots, but for now, please read and REVIEW! Reviews are ESSENTIAL to my well-being! rlol Hope you enjoy! Thanks so much!

-VHunter07

P.S.: EVERYONE NEEDS TO UPDATE THEIR STORIES!!!!!!!!!!!!If you have an unfinished story this means YOU! "Yes Mother"; "A Little Murder"; "An Unconventional Proposal"; "Mouse"; "What Happened Next"; & "There's No Place Like Holmes" just to name a few! C'mon, please guys! The suspense is KILLING me:)


	2. Farewell

"Farewell"

* * *

She sat serenely by the open window, taking in the summer breeze. The needles in her hands had ceased to knit as she gazed out into the misty morning with her tired eyes. The birds had just begun their singing, the new foal was up and about the pasture below, sprinting back and forth before his mothers' watchful gaze. The woman sighed gently, the sight calling up many sweet memories which were better left forgotten.

"The poor mare..." she thought to herself.

She turned to glance at the old family photograph that hung a little crookedly on the faded wall. Her eyes lingered on the full face of her eldest son. Such a good boy, she thought. She'd known from the beginning that he would make a name for himself. In his own way he was now absolutely inexpendable to their country. He worked his way nearly to the top. She'd always known he would. He had been so frightfully brilliant as a child.

She looked to the man just above him, with his large, firm hand on the shoulder of his son. The sight of that dear, strong featured face brought tears to the womans' dark eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, focusing on the occupant of her lap in the picture. A dark haired, rather pale boy that greatly favored his mother. The woman smiled sadly to herself, remembered the day the picture had been taken.

The stiff little photographer had informed them that it was considered proper to wear no facial expression when capturing a photograph. But for some reason, the youngest child had been completely unable to eradicate the wide smile that illuminated his face. They all too soon discovered the reason. The moment the picture was taken, the camera had suddenly exploded into a burst of colourful flames. The woman could not help but laugh as the scene was replayed in her mind.

The little photographer had jumped and bounced about, shouting wildly. She remembered her younger son rushing forward to the smoking heap upon the floor that had once been known as a camera. He was shaking his head with a puzzled look upon his childish countenance. She recalled how her husband had realized the originator of the catastrophe within a moment of its' wake. He had literally shoved the distraught photographer out the door, promising payment for the destroyed property.

With the click of the front door all eyes turned suspiciously to the child sitting amidst the ruins. He readily admitted to the cameras' being a casualty of a mandatory experiment dealing with colour photography. The boy had replaced the magnesium phosphate in the camera with calcium chloride and sodium nitrate. Producing, though not the desired effect, a definite improvement upon the usual rather dull result. Miraculously, and much to his dismay, the negative for the photo had been protected by it's inner casing, and was not altered in the least.

They had not been able to keep from laughing at him, with his young face flushed with excitement, not even bothering to realize the serious consequences he had brought upon himself. His father had always been stern, and quick to disipline his often wayward son, but this time, to his familys' surprise, the boy had only been sent to his room without supper.

The woman recalled all the extra washing she'd had to take in, all the various odd jobs her husband had done, in attempts to pay for that equipment. The boy had done a great deal himself, he always had been more than willing to restore the properties that fell victim to his whims. Such a dear child.

Her reminesences were suddenly interupted by the sound of steps in the hall. She turned in time to see her young son step through the door. He was certainly no longer the wild little boy of the picture, yet he was not quite a man. He'd grown so tall, taller than his father or brother. She discerned an air of uncommon timidity about him as he came to stand by her chair. She let her eyes drift lovingly over his face. The expressive brow, the strong nose, high forehead, thin lips set so determined like...and eyes so like her own. His long fingers fidgeted round for something to occupy them, as they always did when he was nervous or excited. He knelt suddenly before her, and she took his hands in hers.

"What is troubling you so?"

He looked away into the green fields, obviously afraid to meet her eyes. She watched in silence as he visibly gathered his shaken courage.

"Mother, I...I..."

Her reassuring smile gave him the strength to continue.

"Mother, I must leave you."

The woman blinked twice in confusion. "To go to town? That's quite alright, I-"

"No. No, I must leave,...for London."

She forced the tears back that threatened to overtake her. She had known this day would come, but why must it come so swiftly?

"But darling, you are so young. Why, your brother didn't leave until-"

"Mother, I must...I've thought over this a great deal, and I know what I must do. I must help. My brother, he...he always knew, you and Father always knew just what he was meant to be, where he belonged! I...I've never known, but I know now. Mother, they need me. My strange ablilities could be put to a good use, should I enter the appropriate field. And they need me desperately, I read just yesterday that a woman was found dead in the river, she was murdered, Mother! And they haven't done a thing about it! They ruled it a suicide!"

"Darling, these things are not for us to get involved in, it's not our business."

"Then I will make it mine!"

She touched her hand to his colour tinged cheek.

"My dear boy, you know this won't bring your father back."

He stood abruptly and walked to the mantle, leaning upon it as if it could relieve the great tension in the room.

"This has nothing to do with Father."

She rose to join him, placing her arm about his waist.

"I may not be as brilliant as you, but neither am I a fool! I know that you blame yourself for your fathers' death."

He turned suddenly to face her.

"It was my fault! I should have been there! He told me to deliver the order to the client and come straight back! But I didn't...I thought that if I just stepped into the library very quickly, I knew exactly which book I wanted...how was I to know it would cost my father his very life?"

He turned away again, attempting to hide his boyish tears from her. She put her arms around him, laying her head against his trembling shoulders.

"We don't always know why God allows bad things happen in life, it's not our place to know. We can only do our best, and continue to live one day at a time. You must not keep blaming yourself. Had you been there, in all probability I would have lost both my husband and my youngest son to that madman. I am only too grateful I did not lose you as well."

He turned into her embrace and returned it. "No doubt you are right Mother, just as you always are."

"It's about time you realized that."

"But...I must go, still I must...you do understand don't you?"

Silence filled the little sitting room. She did know, but she didn't want to admit it. Just as she'd known her elder son would mean much to many, she'd known her youngest would mean everything to all.

"Yes, I do darling, I always have."

"I...I don't know when I'll be back, Mother."

She stepped back and looked up at him, taking in every detail of his face. Pulling him gently downward she kissed his cheek.

"I don't believe you will come back."

"Of course I will! I promise to-"

She put a finger to his lips.

"Don't! Don't promise me anything! That which you must do will be more difficult than you or I can possibly imagine. You will not be able to come back, child. I will not expect you to, but I will expect you to never forget how very much I love you. This road that is laid out before you it to be long and hard, but I know...I know that it is the one you are meant to take. Walk it well, dear boy...and don't ever look back."

"Yes Mother." His voice was hardly audible. She read his lips rather than heard the words.

She let him go and faced the open window.

"Go on darling, and don't look back."

She heard his retreating footsteps stop just outside the door.

"Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

She watched him walk down the path from their little home. She followed his slender form with her eyes until they hurt from the strain. He never turned, back straight, shoulders stiff, he strode steadily forward to his destiny. When at last he disappeared over the farthest hill, still she looked on. The sudden whinnying of the mare in the pasture pulled her back to the moment. The foal had run a little too far, and was being viciously reigned in. The woman laughed.

"Hold on to him while you can my dear...it will surely not last forever."


End file.
